Storm | Teen Ink

Storm

June 18, 2012
By Anonymous

Shut the window, the rain is coming
Filth is not purged, it is spread.
Disgust floods my vision,
the horizon,
the sky
Look at your hands. 
Whose blood is caked in your nails, the red blossoming as it spreads across your dirt-encrusted skin?
This isn't my reality, it's  yours.
This isn't your hand, it's the hand of God.
You spit on your salvation.
Rain cannot help you now.


The author's comments:
It can be interpreted many ways. I like to imagine it as the light of truth, but the truth itself is dark.

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